A Return to Downton
by JamesLuver
Summary: The letter arrived in the morning post, in a thick, rich envelope, addressed to them both in neat, looping handwriting.


A/N: This is not a new fic-it was written in response to **Awesomegreentie** and **Terriejane's** _A Picture is Worth a Thousand Words_ challenge back in August 2016. I have been asked recently to transfer these fics from Tumblr to here for ease of access...so I finally gave in, LOL.

The picture which inspired this was a lady's fan.

Disclaimer: I don't own _Downton Abbey_.

* * *

_A Return to Downton_

The letter arrived in the morning post in a thick, rich envelope, addressed to them both in neat, looping handwriting.

"Who's that from?" asked the local post boy without the slightest care in the world, seeming reluctant to hand it over as he stared, as if that would make it reveal its mysterious contents. John eased it out of the lad's grip and peered down at it, though he didn't need to. If there was one thing he did not like it was other people poking in their business, but he had a feeling that he knew what lay inside and, if that was the case, everyone would know soon enough. The rumours might as well start to fly now.

"It's from my old employer," he said, tucking it into his top pocket so he could open it later without an audience.

The post boy's eyes widened. "Weren't you employed by one of the toffs? What would they want now?"

"Mrs. Bates and I were both employed by the Earl of Grantham, yes," said John. "As for the other, well, I suppose I'll find out when I open it later."

The post boy looked disappointed that the moment wasn't going to be now, lingering anyway. John raised his eyebrow at him.

"Have you any other post for us?" he asked pointedly.

"Well, no," the lad stammered.

"Then if you'll excuse me, I must be getting on. Good day to you." John inclined his head politely and pretended to be busy poring over the guest list in front of him until the boy had gone. Only then did he take the letter out, using the paper knife that he kept in the drawer to slice it open. His eyes slid across the page as he took in the words before him, and a small, nostalgic smile tugged at his lips at the formal wording inside. When he had finished reading, he tucked the letter into the inside of his jacket pocket for safekeeping.

Anna was still at their little cottage, which was backed onto their small hotel. It would be another couple of hours before she arrived, their darling son in tow. He couldn't wait to show her. She'd been a little restless lately, partly down to him, and the letter was surely going to be just the ticket to cheer her up.

* * *

Anna gasped as she soaked up the words before her, raising eyes that shone to meet his gaze excitedly. He chuckled at the look on her face.

"Well?" he said. "What do you say?"

"Yes!" she squealed. "Oh, John, this would be lovely!"

"I thought you'd say that," he said. "I've already booked the train tickets."

She squealed again and flung herself into his arms. From his position on the floor, Jack cocked his head to one side, gumming his fist with interest. John grinned at him over his wife's shoulder, giving him a conspiratorial wink.

"Women, eh?" he said. "Always so excitable."

This earned him a punch on the arm.

"John Bates, don't you dare pretend that you're not as pleased about this as I am," she scolded him.

"I thought you were happy with what we have now?" he teased.

"I am _beyond _happy with what I have now, thank you very much. I wouldn't change a single thing about it for anything in the world. But I'm allowed to miss my friends, aren't I?"

"Of course you are," he conceded. He had to admit, he missed many of the same people too.

"Thank you," she said tartly, then turned to Jack, giving him a shake of the head.

"Your daddy," she said in exasperation.

* * *

It felt strange, to enter Downton Abbey through the front door and not around the servants' entrance. But that was exactly what they did, John taking the lead while Anna kept close to his heels, Jack in her arms. Their little miracle was a full year old now. It still beggared belief that the time could have flown that quickly.

Thomas met them at the door. John half-expected him to give them a sour look for having the audacity to not use the servants' entrance, but he only inclined his head towards them.

"Mr. Bates, Mrs. Bates," he murmured. "May I take your coats?"

Bemused, John shrugged his off and handed it over, taking Jack from Anna so that she could do the same. Thomas eyed his son with lukewarm interest.

"He's grown fast," he said. "Definitely his father's son."

"Do you think?" said Anna, sounding pleased. "I always say that too, but Mr. Bates disagrees."

"He's got your colouring right enough," said Thomas. "But his features are certainly Mr. Bates'."

"There," Anna said triumphantly, as if she'd won a great battle. John looked to Jack.

"That's me outnumbered again," he told him. "I hope you're going to be on my side when you're older. We boys have got to stick together."

Jack only laughed and patted him on the nose.

"Go on through," Thomas told them. "Almost everyone is here now."

"Thank you," said Anna. "Here, give Jack back to me."

John did so dutifully, following Anna through the glass doors into the great hall, where the annual servants' ball was being held.

"It seems that Thomas really has turned over a new leaf," he murmured in wonder to her under the loud din of chatter. "I'm pleasantly surprise. I still doubted whether he could change."

"I'm glad for it," said Anna. "It's better to have everyone onside rather than finding yourself alone. I don't know how he did it all those years, I really don't."

There was a heaviness under her words that he didn't want to dwell on; she had tried to push him away after the catastrophic business with the snake. It had been such torture for the both of them. Neither of them had been able to fight for a semblance of happiness until they'd been reunited once more, even if, for a time at least, they had been reunited in nothing but grief for what had been stolen from them.

He stopped her with a light touch to the hip, before she could duck inside the great hall.

"Well, he's come out the other side," he said quietly, not one bit of him meaning Thomas. Because they _had_. They'd survived everything life had thrown at them. Perhaps they weren't the same people as they'd been before. Battle-worn, scarred, world-weary. But they had never given up fighting. John wasn't naïve. He knew that neither of them would ever forget the things that they'd gone through. Sometimes, even now, years on, Anna still woke drenched in sweat and trembling. They'd still won, because they had reclaimed their happiness, built a wonderful family life in defiance. No one could ever take that away from them again.

Anna softened, casting him a smile.

"You're right," she murmured.

"That's a first," he said wryly. "Now come on, we've come all this way with the intention of enjoying ourselves. Let's do just that."

She nodded in agreement, and he kept his hand at the small of her back as they finally stepped into the hall. Nothing on earth would be able to tear him away from his family now.

* * *

It had been a wonderful evening. All of their old friends were present in the hall, and it was almost like they had never been away. John was glad that they'd made the decision to chase their own dreams, but being back together with everyone once more brought back pleasant memories of games of cards around the table and lively debates about the events of the day. The life of a servant could be frustrating at times but when all was said and done, they had almost been like one big family, and it had been nice to have a place to belong.

As he had always known she would be, his beautiful wife was the centre of attention—especially with their handsome little man pulling in the punters. He had lost count of the number of times he had glanced over at her to find her surrounded by women cooing over Jack, who kicked out his legs in delight and babbled nonsense words at them, pleased as punch. It seemed like Jack was going to be a ladies' man when he grew up.

He himself hadn't been starved of attention. Everyone, from Lord Grantham to the one remaining gardener, had approached him, clapping him heartily on the back and offering him drink after drink that he had politely declined, congratulating him on a job well done with producing such a fine looking chap. He demurred that he was quite certain that all of Jack's good genes had come from Anna. This had made the others laugh, but there was nothing that John believed more. Jack certainly hadn't got his beauty from _him_, no matter how people might say that his son was the apple of his eye.

The band had been busy playing lively tune after lively tune. The dancefloor had been occupied all evening. Mr. Carson had danced a dignified waltz with Lady Mary. Andy had taken Lady Edith for a spin. Mrs. Hughes and Mr. Branson had found a nice rhythm together. Smiling to himself, John weaved his way through the crowd, finding his way back to his family's side at last. It had been good for them to mingle individually, but there was nothing on earth better than being right there with the most important people in his life.

"Is this seat taken?" he asked as he approached the table Anna had set up camp at.

"It might be," she teased. "As you can see, I have the most handsome boy in town to keep me company."

Jack blinked sleepily at his father, sucking on his thumb. It wouldn't be long before he was fast asleep. John chuckled, leaning across to wipe a trickle of drool from his son's chin with his handkerchief. "There was a time when _I _was the most handsome boy in town to you."

"Oh, you were never a boy, Mr. Bates," she said, the connotation making him blush. He reached out for Jack to change the subject.

"Let me take him for a little while," he said.

"All right. Go to Daddy, darling," said Anna, handing him across the table.

"Dada!" Jack squealed, grabbing at his tie. John nuzzled his nose against his son's round cheek, pressing a sound kiss there. He could talk up quite a storm when he wanted to, surprisingly. Most of it sounded like nonsense words, but John was certain that privately both he and Anna thought of their son as something like a child genius. His babbling was already improving every day.

"Hello, handsome," he said. "Have you been having a nice time with all of Mummy's friends? You're the star of the show, aren't you?"

"He certainly is," said Anna. "We should be quite jealous. Everyone's more interested in our little boy than they are in us. Daisy hasn't been able to stop cooing."

"Well, I can't say I blame her there. Just look at him."

Jack had settled his head in the crook of John's neck. His head was a heavy weight as his little eyes drooped once more.

At that moment, Lady Mary appeared at their sides, looking regal in a dress of deep crimson, accompanied by an intricate jewelled piece fixed to her forehead.

"Hello, Bates," she said. John knew that she'd spent a large amount of her time this evening with Anna, but this was the first time that he'd seen her. He inclined his head politely towards her.

"Milady," he said.

"I trust you're finding the evening enjoyable," she said, scooping a glass of champagne from the table, a flute left behind by Daisy.

"It's been very nice," he said honestly. "It's good to be back."

"It's good to see you back. I don't suppose you're looking for your old positions?"

"I'm afraid not, milady," Anna smiled. "We are very happy indeed."

"Pity. I like Booth, but she's not you. And I know Papa has missed you terribly, Bates."

"That's very humbling to hear, milady. But Anna is right. We wouldn't change our lives now for the world."

"And I'm sure there aren't many who can say that. You're very lucky. Now, how about a dance? I know Mr. Talbot would love to give you a spin around the dancefloor, Anna."

"Oh, no, milady, I'm fine," Anna said.

"Don't be silly, you love to dance."

"I think the music is too fast for me."

"That's never stopped you before. You reeled like a champion at Duneagle."

"I'm a lot older than I was then, too."

Lady Mary scoffed. "Hardly. You've nothing to worry about, you know. Bates has little Jack. He's in good hands."

"Of course he is!" Anna protested. "I never meant that. I just…"

She was flailing, and John reached out to touch her hand. No doubt it would be deemed a rather daring action in front of an earl's daughter, but he didn't care. Not when Anna needed his support.

"Nanny Goodwin was just telling me about Miss Isobel," he said smoothly, changing the subject. Anna shot him a discreet, grateful look.

Distracted, Lady Mary said, "Oh, was she?"

"Yes, she was. I hear she can be quite the handful."

Lady Mary laughed. "Well, I suppose so. She has Mr. Talbot's stubbornness."

Mr. Talbot's stubbornness? John repressed a snort. There was no one on earth more stubborn than Lady Mary, as far as he was concerned. Still, it was best not to comment on _that_.

After a while, Lady Mary excused herself, and they were left alone once more. Anna tapped her foot along with the music, resting her chin in the palm of her hand as she surveyed the dancing couples.

"You're really missing it, aren't you?" he asked her quietly.

She stirred, sighing. "Not really."

"You don't have to lie to me. I know you better than anyone."

She gave him a smile. "You're right. I am, a little. Is that terrible to say?"

"Not at all," he reassured her. "You were always a dancer. A graceful faery."

"Well, I don't know about that, but I enjoyed it."

They sat in silence for a little longer, until the notes of the old music died out and a new assemble started. This one was slower. John watched as the couples on the dancefloor gravitated towards the people they were closest to, with Lord and Lady Grantham leading the way. It made up his mind for him.

Decisively, he said, "Come on, Anna."

She raised her eyebrows at him, surprised. "Come on where?"

"The dancefloor, I hope. Would you give me the honour of this dance?"

She scrunched up her nose, though he could read the longing in her eyes. "I can't, John. And what about Jack? We can't just leave him here."

"He can come with us."

"And how can he do that? John, he's barely walking a few steps as it is."

"We'll hold him between us. We'll have a family sway."

"This is the most preposterous thing I think I've ever heard," Anna declared, but the spark in her eyes told a different story. She wanted it, he knew it.

"Come on," he coaxed. "Look, Mr. Branson is dancing with Miss Sybbie. We won't look too out of place. I don't think anyone will pay us the least bit of attention. They're all too wrapped up in each other."

"All right," she conceded at last, her smile brightening her whole face. John couldn't stop his own smile in return, hitching Jack more securely into his left arm. He took a moment to push himself carefully to his feet, making sure he was steady before he offered his hand to Anna; it certainly wouldn't do to drop his son. Sometimes he worried that he wouldn't be able to keep this up for long, but if he could lift Anna at times, why shouldn't he be able to lift his boy? Anna had never doubted him, either, never looked at him as if she was nervous that he might not be steady enough.

She clasped his proffered hand now, twining their fingers together as she followed him towards the dancefloor. He kept them on the edges, away from the crowd, hidden partially in the shadows. The lilting strings of the violins made for a pretty melody as he moved his right hand to her waist, encouraging her closer. She giggled as she brushed up against him, wrapping one arm around his waist in return whilst the other moved to Jack's back. Their boy had barely stirred at the movements, nuzzled into John's neck, and he found himself overwhelmed by the moment as he and Anna began to move in tandem. It could barely be called that, really; all they did was sway imperceptibly, as close as propriety would allow them to get. John couldn't escape Anna's eyes if he tried. She gazed up at him with unfettered love and joy, her lips curled back in a beaming smile that took over her whole face. The arm around his waist squeezed tightly, articulating what she could not. He held her tighter too.

As the final bars of the music played out, he lowered his head to her as best he could, murmuring in her ear, "I love you."

"I love you too," she breathed in reply.

He wanted to kiss her, so much. But he wouldn't, not here where everyone could see them. He settled instead for bringing Jack between them, and they kissed a sleepy cheek from each side. John closed his eyes, relishing their close proximity. His beautiful family.

All too soon, they were pulled from their own little world by another interruption from Lady Mary. She came up behind them with a triumphant look on her face.

"I _knew _you wanted to dance!" she said. "I don't know why you're being so silly. I'll get someone to dance with you."

"No, really, milady," Anna tried, but Lady Mary had already hailed Mr. Branson. John thought it was the right time to step in.

"Actually, milady," he said, "We were just about to take Jack here and put him to bed. It's far too late for him now, the poor chap, and he'll only be cranky in the morning."

"Oh, you can do that while Anna dances, can't you?" said Lady Mary.

John exchanged a glance with his wife. "Not really. Jack will be staying with Anna in the women's quarters. I can't very well go there."

"Oh, what nonsense!" the younger woman exclaimed.

"Milady?" said Anna uncertainly.

"Do you really think we'd invite you back here and expect you to sleep in the _servants' _quarters? You're not servant anymore, you're guests under this roof. And guests under this roof have their own bedrooms. I got Mrs. Hughes to make up the Blue Room earlier, and Nanny Goodwin will take Jack with the other children for the night. She's already under strict orders to come and fetch you if Jack is restless and won't settle."

John blinked. He had never assumed that the Crawleys' kindness would extend that far. It was kind of them to invite them back here for the servants' hall in the first place. He'd resigned himself to a night away from his wife in the servants' quarters, not sharing a luxurious room with her here in the abbey for the _third _time.

Lady Mary seized on their stupefaction. "So go on, Bates. Go and put your son to bed while your wife has this dance. Look, Mr. Branson is here to do the honours!"

Anna gave him a helpless look, which he returned. What could they say without looking rude? There was the truth, of course, but they'd been hoping to keep it a secret for a little while longer at least.

"Hello," said Mr. Branson cheerfully. "What is it, Mary?"

"You'll dance with Anna, won't you?"

"Of course I will," he said. "And I've had plenty of chance to warm up this evening with Sybbie."

"Perfect," said Lady Mary triumphantly. "There's no shame in not being much of a dancer, Bates, but I'm sure Anna doesn't really want to miss out."

"Well—" he started, then stopped when he saw Anna subtly shaking her head.

"Thank you, Mr. Branson," she said instead. "That would be lovely. Go, Mr. Bates. I'll be all right."

"As long as you're sure," was all he could say. "I won't be too long."

"Andy will have taken your cases upstairs," said Lady Mary. "Jack's things will be in the nursery. Nanny Goodwin will be happy to sort him out."

"That's very kind, but I can do it myself," John said politely. He knew it wasn't really the done way of things, and that men even of his class didn't usually have much to do with their children when it came to the domestic side of things, but he supposed that he and Anna had always trodden the line of convention when it had come to things they had faced together.

Lady Mary shrugged. "Very well. Now, I'm overdue another dance with my husband." She flounced away with all the authority she had come with.

With no other choice, John hitched Jack further up into his embrace and weaved his way out of the hall. The party was beginning to die down now, but the hard-core young remained.

It was a long way to the nursery, but John persevered fastidiously, taking it one step at a time. Without the aid of his cane, it was even more straining, but Jack's weight against him reminded him of the importance of this task.

All the children but Miss Sybbie had already been put to bed, so he set about changing his son into his pyjamas as quietly as possible. Jack didn't even stir. Pressing a kiss to his round cheek, he lowered him into the large crib that had been assembled and returned to the great hall. Perhaps it was time for him and Anna to retire now too. The hour had grown late, and they both needed their rest.

But when he returned downstairs, something was wrong. He could sense it in his bones. The music had stopped. Why had the music stopped?

Dread settled in the pit of his stomach as he hurried down the stairs as fast as he could, uncaring of the way that his knee twinged. Anna. He had to get to Anna.

There was a crowd gathered by the time he got back and, with a sickening feeling, he knew instinctively what he would find.

His worst fears were confirmed. The crowd was gathered around his Anna. Anna, who looked pale and sweaty, clutching a fan between her fingers.

"Anna!" he said loudly, forcing his way through, uncaring if he appeared rude. He had to get to her.

"John," she said, and the sound of his Christian name, unheard of in this kind of environment, only spurred him on. He dropped to his good knee in front of her, cupping her face between his palms.

"Are you all right?" he asked frantically. "What happened!?"

It was Lady Mary who answered, her usually impenetrable complexion shaken. "I'm not sure. One moment she seemed fine, the next…" Her voice trailed off helplessly.

"The next she sort of, I don't know, collapsed," Mr. Branson supplied. "I was there to catch her so there was no harm done, but she seemed to go all dizzy and disorientated. Mr. Barrow fetched her a glass of water, and Mrs. Hughes fanned her with this." He indicated the fan that was now held tightly in Anna's fist. It was a pretty thing, elegant and delicate. Made of grey silk, it was edged in intricate lace and shot through with a beautiful pattern. Lady Mary's, no doubt. "She came round quickly. I think she'll be all right."

"Are you?" John urged her. He felt her forehead. Not overly warm. It had to be a good sign. Dammit, why was Doctor Clarkson not important enough to be invited to these kinds of nights up at the abbey? A trained doctor with medical knowledge would have soothed him more. But there was Mrs. Crawley. He often forgot that she was a fully trained nurse. Perhaps she would be able to help them.

"'M fine," Anna said. She sounded a little woozy, but he hoped that was only a side-effect of her fainting. Her eyes were cloudy and befuddled, but when she reached up to grab his forearm with her spare hand, her grip was strong. "I shouldn't have danced, though. I shouldn't. What if—"

"Everything will be all right," he reassured her. "I know it." Uncaring of the people scrutinising them, he pressed a kiss to her forehead, entwining their hands together.

"What does she mean?" asked Lady Mary. "Why shouldn't she have danced? It's never been a problem before, unless there's some reason…"

John took a deep breath. This was not ideal. They had never intended to reveal the news this way, certainly not tonight. Tonight they had wanted to blend in, already the talking point by being asked back in the first place, and no doubt they would have been further with the news that they would be sleeping in one of the grand rooms upstairs.

But if they'd been honest from the start, this wouldn't have happened.

"We're expecting again, milady," he said, his voice echoing in the hall. "We're having our second child."

Anna squeezed his hand to reassure him that he'd done the right thing as gasps rose up through those gathered. Lady Mary clamped her hands over her mouth.

"I had no idea!" came her muffled, agonised voice. "Oh, Anna, I'm so, so sorry! I never would have pushed you to dance if I'd've known! Why didn't you mention something to me!?"

"We would have, milady, honestly," Anna said, wincing. "But the timing didn't seem quite appropriate."

"Well, I say this calls for another drink!" cried Mr. Branson, patting John enthusiastically on the shoulder.

"By Jove, I second that!" said Lord Grantham. "Bates, you dark horse! Congratulations! Everyone, have another glass of champagne! The baby isn't here yet, but it would be rude of us not to wet its head now that we know about it!"

Cheers and claps of agreement rose up from everyone, and they all dispersed to do as they'd been told, offering their own congratulations to both Anna and John as they passed. Only Lady Mary remained, with Mrs. Crawley lingering in the background. John suspected that she wanted to approach, but was waiting for the younger woman to finish.

"I suppose you had to do what you did last time?" Lady Mary asked in a low voice.

"We did," Anna confirmed. "We all went down to London for a few days. Jack is too little to understand any of it and was quite happy, and we rented a room in a nice hotel so we could be comfortable."

"Then you should have said something immediately! If anyone knows what you went through, it's me." She glanced over her shoulder and caught sight of Mrs. Crawley. "Ah, Mrs. Crawley!"

The older woman stepped forward. "I hate to interrupt."

"You're not interrupting," Anna said, giving her a tired smile.

"Good. I was thinking that perhaps you ought to go upstairs, and I can give you a quick check over to make sure that there is nothing to concern you."

"That's very kind of you, Mrs. Crawley," John said gratefully. "Thank you. We'd appreciate it."

Mrs. Crawley nodded, bustling between them with purpose to help Anna to her feet.

"Come on, dear," she said authoritatively. "Let's get you upstairs."

Anna nodded. Still clutching the fan, she followed Mrs. Crawley out of the room of celebrating people, John close at her heels.

* * *

"Everything is absolutely fine," Mrs. Crawley announced, pulling the stethoscope from her ears; her speed at finding medical equipment to use had been rather amusing despite the circumstances. "The baby's heartbeat is very strong."

"I think it's wriggling around," said Anna. "I feel the flutterings."

"That's very good," said Mrs. Crawley. "But don't hesitate to give Doctor Clarkson a ring if you feel that anything has changed."

Anna nodded, squeezing John's hand tight. He kissed the side of her head in response.

"Thank you very much for doing this," he said earnestly. "We're very grateful to you."

"Oh, nonsense. It's my pleasure. Now, rest well."

"Goodnight," said Anna as John walked the older woman to the door. She cast a motherly smile back at them and marched out of the room. John had always admired her strength and authority, and now more so than ever.

Then they were alone.

Anna sighed as she reclined back against the headboard. Mrs. Crawley had helped her into her nightgown as if she was an invalid. It had been very much to his wife's embarrassment, he'd been able to read it clearly in her face straight away, but John appreciated it. Even if they were married, it might not have sat right medically if he was the one to undress her. He was just glad that Mrs. Crawley had been kind enough to allow him to stay in the room during the examination, more forward thinking than most of the others. He'd held Anna's hand anxiously throughout, his eyes riveted to her stomach as he held his breath, praying for the best.

It was the best. Their baby was a fighter, just like its mother, just like its brother.

Now at ease, he began to strip languidly, until he was down to his shorts. He couldn't be bothered to go fishing for his pyjamas, so he simply crawled into bed beside his wife, draping his arm across her. She arched her eyebrow at him.

"What?" he said. "You like it when I sleep like this. Or, rather, in nothing."

She rolled her eyes, settling down against him anyway. He reached out and extinguished the oil lamp, plunging the room in darkness. They laid together, both of them cradling the gentle swell of her stomach.

"I'm sorry," Anna said at length.

John frowned. "Sorry? What for?"

"I shouldn't have danced tonight. I knew it was a risky thing. And I did it anyway."

"You can't blame yourself for that," he argued. "I should have been stronger, said that I would rather you didn't. They might have whispered about me for it—being a jealous old man with a young, beautiful wife—but I could have put up with that. I could put up with anything for you."

"Quite the charmer," she said.

"Well, it's true. You and Jack complete me. The new baby is the icing on the cake. I never expected any of this."

"You changed my life. I never thought I could have a life like this when I was young. I'd got it all planned out. I would follow in Mrs. Hughes' footsteps, or follow Lady Mary. I never saw this. It's beyond my wildest imaginings."

In the dark, her mouth found his. She kissed him softly, and he cupped the side of her face, massaging the spot just behind her ear that made her wilt every time. When they parted, she rested her forehead against his. He felt the soft curve of her smile.

"I did have fun tonight, despite everything," she said. "It was lovely seeing everyone again."

"It was," he agreed, then ventured, "…you really don't regret the choices we made, do you? Leaving this behind to start afresh?"

"Of course not," she exclaimed. "I miss the people we shared our life with, but leaving was the best decision we ever made. It was a chance to start afresh, cleanse ourselves of everything. It's been so good for us."

"I'm glad you think so. I would hate it if you ever regretted our choices."

"I could never regret them. Never," she emphasised, then lowered her voice to a cheeky lilt. "Besides, if we hadn't, then we wouldn't be here tonight, would be? Sharing this very comfy bed."

"Mrs. Bates," he rasped, "that's rather racy of you, especially given the circumstances."

"Oh, there won't be any of _that_ tonight," she said. "But there's always tomorrow morning. I've always wondered what it would be like to have my way with you in one of these beds again. Our wedding night was a long time ago."

"You had your way with me in the early hours of the following morning too, actually," he said lazily, stroking his hand between her shoulder blades as she settled down beside him with an adorable, disgruntled hush.

"Did Jack go down all right?" she asked, changing the subject.

"He did," he confirmed. "Didn't even stir."

"That's good." Her cheek was pressed tight to his chest, and he could sense the drowsiness below her words. Even this early in the pregnancy, she was finding herself tired out at night. Of course, most of that could be attributed to the way that she bustled around the hotel, working with the strength of twenty men. She had worked right up until the moment that Jack had been born last time around. He suspected that it would be no different this, but at least as proprietors of their own business he could encourage Anna to sit down and put her feet up while he took care of the more strenuous side of the job.

"I wonder how breakfast will be in the morning," he said as Anna's head grew heavy against him.

"What do you mean?" she muttered.

"Well, we're sleeping up here. Do we go to the servants' hall? Or are we expected at his lordship's table? That would be strange. I mean, I've never even served there, but you have. Though I suppose Mr. Branson made a success of the transition. Even then, it might prove to be a little awkward. Maybe they'll expect you to have breakfast in bed like all the other married Crawley women do."

"Mr. Bates, really," she murmured. "Be quiet."

He smiled into the darkness, finding her hand. "Sorry, love."

Her response was a muffled grunt, and she spoke no more. John moved his head to one side, pressing his cheek to the crown of her head. He closed his eyes too.

Downstairs, John imagined the party continuing on into the early hours, the servants relishing the opportunity to let their hair down and enjoy themselves without prohibition. The young would probably crawl into bed for an hour, and rise, still tipsy, to perform their morning duties.

Lying there with his wife in his arms and their unborn child sheltered between them, John knew that there was nowhere on earth that he would rather be than right here. Only Jack's presence could make this even more perfect, but he knew his son was secure and being thoroughly looked after, and they were all tucked safe and well in their beds.

His sleep was uninterrupted and filled with dreams of the not too distant future.

* * *

The morning found them in high spirits. Anna had made good on her promise to have her way with him in the grey dawn light. The silken sheets paired with the silk of Anna's skin had meant that it was even more pleasurable than usual. Thankfully, they were done before Gertie, one of the kitchen maids, made her way upstairs with a tea tray, though they had made sure to keep the sheets tucked tight around their chins and hurry her out as quickly as possible to hide their naked state. They'd taken a cup of tea abed together, and John had snorted at the sight of his lovely wife preparing him a cup just the way he liked it, completely in the nude. If only that was acceptable all the time, he lamented.

They lounged in bed until half past seven, then rose to dress. Breakfast was at eight, Gertie had informed them before leaving. Little Jack would be eating his with the other children. Their train left for Scarborough at half past ten. It gave them plenty of time.

The prospect of eating breakfast among the peers made John a little nervous, but he knew that Anna's grace and charm would be their salvation. He could tell she was nervous too, from the way that she was playing with her wedding ring, but they had always been able to count on the Crawley family's kindness. He was sure that they would do their utmost to make them feel welcome there.

Still, they held hands all the way down to the dining room.

* * *

It was good to be home.

John reclined back in his favourite worn armchair, Jack nestled in his arms. The boy had long since drifted off to sleep, but Anna was taking a well-deserved bath, and he had promised to look after him in the meantime. In fact, Jack's warm weight against his chest was making him feel sleepy, too. It had been an action-packed couple of days. He would enjoy crawling between familiar sheets tonight and sleeping heavily. He might even give himself a rare late morning. He was usually at the hotel by half past seven at the latest, but it wouldn't hurt if he slept in a little later and went over mid-morning. He was his own boss, after all.

"Well, well, this is a cosy sight."

He blinked open heavy eyes at the voice to find Anna standing before him, dressed in one of her long winter nightgowns and her thick dressing gown, a present from him this year because he'd heard her complaining that her old one wasn't nearly adequate enough anymore. With her hair braided down her back, she looked the very image of a homely wife. He smiled drowsily at her.

"'S'time?" he mumbled, reaching up to rub at his eyes. His left arm had gone dead.

"Just after eight," she told him with a giggle. "Goodness, you must be whacked if you're falling asleep already. What happened to my restless insomniac?"

"Old age," he said sardonically.

She tsked at him. "Hush, you. Let me take Jack. I'll put him to bed now. It doesn't look like he'll be waking up for quite some time."

"The trip has tired him out too," said John, breathing a sigh of relief when Anna lifted their son up. He shook his arm tentatively, wincing as the blood started to flow again. "I don't think he's ever had as much fun, surrounded by those other children."

"It's a good thing he's going to be having a brother or a sister soon then, isn't it?" she said serenely, hitching him onto her hip. He didn't stir as she rested his cheek against her shoulder.

"Very good," he said, letting his eyes rove over her. She rolled hers at him.

"Go and have a bath, Mr. Bates," she said. "I've saved the water for you. And I've put the kettle on to boil. I'll bring it through for you in a minute so you can bring the temperature back up."

He nodded, rising to his feet.

"Sleep well, son," he murmured to Jack's placid face. He brushed a kiss over his forehead and then over Anna's for good measure. She jerked her head.

"Come on, bathroom, now," she said. "Get more comfortable. I'll be with you shortly."

He heeded her command, hanging his clothes on the hooks that he'd installed on the wall and slipping beneath the line of the water. It was only lukewarm, but Anna soon put that to rights when she bustled in with the steaming kettle. He sighed and tilted his head back as the warm water cascaded over his knee. Carrying Jack around for such long periods of time had taken its toll, but he would never admit it aloud.

"Is there anything else you need?" Anna asked as she straightened.

"No, I think I've got everything," he said, indicating the soap and washcloth she had left out for him.

She smiled, this time taking the initiative to lean down and press a kiss to his mouth.

"Don't forget to wash behind your ears," she said.

* * *

After a relaxing soak, John made his way down the hall towards the bedroom. He was already dreaming of crawling into bed and falling into blissful slumber when he paused at the door.

Anna was sitting by the window, bathed in the soft light from the oil lamp, idly toying with the fan in her hands.

She simply took his breath away.

She must have heard his intake of breath, for she turned her head towards him at once. "There you are, Mr. Bates. I was wondering where you'd got to."

"I thought you would be in bed by now," he managed.

"You know I don't like to go to bed without you. Especially in the wintertime. I like you to warm the bedsheets."

"Using me all these years," he said mildly, then halted her as she began to rise. "Stop. Stay like that for a minute more."

A frown crinkled her brow. "Why?"

"Because I want to commit this to memory. You look beautiful. Like a woman posing for her portrait. Where did you get it? Isn't that Lady Mary's?"

She giggled. "I didn't steal it, if that's what you're implying. I may have coveted many of her fine gowns over the years, but I've never taken something that I shouldn't have."

"I never meant to imply that you did," he said hurriedly.

"Silly beggar. I'm only teasing. And I may have picked up a diamond necklace once, just to see how it would suit me. I was very young, just a teenaged girl. I was lucky not to be caught, otherwise I would have been out on my ear." She fanned herself languidly, tilting her head back. "No, Lady Mary gave this to me this morning when you were preoccupied with his lordship. Said I should keep it after what happened last night. I'm not quite sure how much use I'll really get out of it, but I appreciate the gesture. It's a bit fancy for here, I think."

"Why do you say that? I think people will find it intriguing." He pitched his voice higher, mimicking the gossipy group of women that congregated outside the tea shop at precisely three o'clock every afternoon in the summer, pushing their noses into everyone else's affairs. "There goes Mrs. Bates. Doesn't she look lovely today? Doesn't she look lovely _every _day? What's that she's got in her hands? Such a piece of finery! Doesn't it make her look even more elegant, even more delicate? She looks like a right proper lady passing by. I wonder where she got it? The business must be booming. The Bateses have got a real knack for business. What a handsome, generous husband she has—"

"All right, that's quite enough!" Anna said, though she couldn't hide her smile. "Honestly, talk about selling yourself. Handsome, generous husband?"

"Are you telling me that you've been deceiving me all these years?" he said, padding into the room. "Or has my tired, lined face lost its appeal after fatherhood?"

"Oh, hush," she said, a smile tugging at her lips. "You're deliberately fishing, and I won't stand for it."

He peeled the quilt back and slid between the sheets. She'd put the bed warmer in, and it had done its job nicely. The sheets were toasty, and once Anna joined him, the heat would only increase, ensuring that they were warm for the rest of the night.

"No, it's true," he lamented teasingly. "My wife has gone off me. I can't compete anymore. And I shall have poor Mrs. Hinds swarming all over me offering me tea and sympathy."

"She'd better not," said Anna. "Now, be quiet before I make you."

"How are you going to make me?" he said.

"I have a few ideas in mind," she said, slamming the fan down decisively.

They were most effective, John thought hazily, later, wrapped up in the silk of her body. Most effective indeed.


End file.
